A Cleric's Tale: Kaffir
by RobK990
Summary: A memoir, straight from the mouth of a wandering cleric.


A/N: This is a memoir I wrote for a character I'm currently playing in a friend's campaign. His name is Kaffir, a human cleric. I don't own D&D or any related properties. RIP Gary Gygax.

A Cleric's Tale

So you want to hear about me? Very well, I have many stories. Do you want to hear about the time I saved a village from a necromancer's horde? The oratory I delivered that convinced a whole town to come into the light and love of Heironeous?

No? Ah. You want something more personal. Something about me? What made me who I am today?

...Yes, I have a story for that. Several, but they're all interwoven. If you have the patience for that, have a seat and help yourself to a mug of this mead.

It was when I first became a man. Well, an adult. Legally. I was eighteen, fresh out of the academy. I decided to follow in my lord stepfather's footsteps and join the military. Well, not strictly in his footsteps. I get seasick, and of course he's with the navy. But I digress.

Five years' service is the norm, after two in training. In the academy, I excelled in history and rhetoric, with passable combat marks. I was never very good with a sword, but I was best with those short, thick, heavy blades, the ones infantrymen use. Rudius, I think it's called? Anyway it turned out the minor skills I cultivated as a healer made me a likely candidate as a medic. I originally wanted to join the royal paladin corps, but there are...several reasons that was never going to happen.

You want to know what those are? Fine. There were three, you sure you have the time?

Yes, yes, very well. Three reasons. First, my name. You may or may not be aware that, legally, I'm a bastard. I kept my birth father's name, then my mother remarried. My stepfather and I have a fine relationship, perfectly normal, it's just I don't bear his last name. Anyway, even if he were to recognize me legally, they take into account 'natural' born children as opposed to adoptees or recognized bastards. Bottom line, that was always going to work against me. The other two were more my own doing. I was never particularly good with a sword, like I said, and of course there's my temper.

You know what, since you say you have the time, and it's related, here's another fun little story. About three months after I entered military training, some wiseass on the short list for paladinship challenged me to a duel. I figured I could take him, so I accepted. It was supposed to be with blunt tournament swords, and that's what I turned up with. He decided it would be funny to come at me with his family sword- not only sharp, but slightly enchanted, as all old swords are. Took a few swings at me, gave me a nasty cut across the cheek. You can still see the scar, right here. He put me on my ass, and I didn't like that, so I grabbed the first thing I saw on the weapons rack, which just happened to be a mace. So I get up and haul off on him, you know, teach him a lesson. I ended up breaking three of his ribs, his arm, and his stupid sword. I healed him, and myself, but the incident ruined his career chances. Apparently the brass didn't like the idea of a paladin candidate who came at a nearly-defenseless comrade with live steel, and had it not been for the fact he came at me with his actual sword, that would have been it for both of us. I got a stern warning, he got drummed out. I don't know how much of that was my lord stepfather's intervention.

But, ah! this ale is making me ramble. The real story.

I spent my two years in training, then graduated. I was surprised to learn a paladin company took up my application as an adjunct medic. The prestigious fifth company, no less, headed by Commander Leondhart. She requested me specifically, I found out later.

Commander Leondhart...she was something special. Youngest paladin company commander in history, only a year older than me. She was...short. Shorter than me, anyway. Slim but not skinny, whipcord tough, and a natural with a rapier. She had a winning smile, and an unswerving devotion to...

What? No! Nothing like that. The Commander wasn't the sort of woman I wanted, you know, physically. She was my inspiration. Everything I'd aspired to be. Strong, confident, driven...and yes, a paladin. That was a part of it. As far as I know, she was...ah...pure. Untouched. She didn't mind her men going out and finding themselves some companionship, but for some reason that felt to me like it would be some kind of betrayal, you know? To her. So, when the other men in the company- the chaplain included- went off to tumble the barmaid in the scullery or have a roll with the farmhand in the hay loft, I decided to keep my discipline and practice with my mace.

I served with the fifth company as a combat medic for all five years. Towards the end of the fifth, we mustered out for Dervun. That region in the south, the one that saw one of the bloodiest battles between the Northern Kingdoms and the Southern Collective a century ago? That's the one. The old animosity is gone, but the region changes hands as part of a ceremonial sort of renewing of the peace every year. There are games, a festival, sport, competitions, then a winner gets 'decided' on, and their nation gets control of Dervun and its surrounding townships and farms until the next year rolls around. Lots of fun, and it keeps the peace.

So, we mustered out with nine other companies. We ended up taking over a whole inn on our own, all twenty of us. The inn was called the Dragon Mug or something like that. At any rate I remember the barmaid more than I do the name.

Kaya was...she was something special. A year younger than me, always smiling. Full lips, raven hair, and the cutest laugh. I remember that laugh more than anything. She wasn't slim or skinny, she lived well and looked like it. What most men would chase if she let them, but no. Kaya didn't want the men who wanted her outright. No, she liked to set her sights on the shy ones, or the less-than-willing, and get them to chase her, by chasing them. It was odd, but who am I to judge another person's kink? Anyway everyone was after her for those two weeks, and she paid them attention, but she only had eyes for me. It was an odd little triangle- the girl who wanted me to chase her, me who wouldn't chase anyone, and the Commander, who would only stay chaste. Kaya was convinced to break me sooner or later, and she got close. Can't remember thinking about any woman the way I thought about her, and she made no secret what she thought of me.

About halfway through the games, this general notice crosses the Commander's desk. One of the local townships had a problem with some kind of monster. The Commander took a vote, and we decided to answer the call. It wasn't the best-paying job, but the prestige was real, and we were all pretty bored with parade ground duty and ceremonial sport. It had been a while since we'd last seen action, so we saddled up and head out for the township.

I don't remember the name of the place, it's in the official report. Took us a day to get there. The town elders were pretty skeptical of a female commander, but what choice did they have? We got the details of the creature. They called it a demon, said it came to the village every three or so days and took people away. Sometimes it hung around, made a lot of noise, swallowed them whole and screaming. Liked women and children, but don't they always? The village elders suggested we hunt it down and kill it. The commander made a different decision. Leave a girl or two in the middle of the town square, then have us ambush the creature in the narrow streets, and kill it. It was a risky plan, but it would have worked. If, for example, the thing had been a wingless demon, like the townsfolk thought.

It wasn't a demon. I'm still not sure what the Hell that thing was. We saw it coming down the main avenue the next night, when we set the trap. It looked, for all the research I've done since, like a demon without wings. It was close to nine feet tall, black as midnight, with arms so long its knuckles dragged on the ground, and a long spaded tail. It looked emaciated. It had little goat horns on its head, but its face was blank. Not even the suggestion of a brow ridge, nose, or ears. Just a slim little crease where a mouth ought to have been.

It came shambling down the street, slowly, like it was just moving on instinct. We thought, no eyes or ears, how is it finding its way? That should have been the first clue. It got to the town square and we sprung the trap. We formed ranks, closed off the street behind it. The chaplain comes out from behind a statue where we tied up the bait and started shouting abjurations and oaths at the thing in order to ward it off, like he'd done a hundred times before. The Commander- she decided to use herself as the bait- got out of her loose bindings and picks up her sword, and we all got ready to bring the thing down.

It killed the chaplain first. It took the thing plunging its talons into his chest for us to realize, this thing was not a demon. The chaplain looked down at his chest, mid-chant, this look of shock on his face, and then it lifted him up and swallowed him whole and living. Its mouth just...appeared. Opened. Like it wasn't there, then there was a man-size hole in its face. He didn't even have time to scream.

Then the thing went for the Commander.

She yelled for us to fight, and not to fear the thing. It reached for her and she slashed its hand with her blessed blade. It made a noise, somewhere between a gurgle, a scream, and a roar, and backhanded her clear across the square. She landed hard, then rolled and stood up, ready to face the thing.

The commander flew twenty feet when the thing smacked her, easily. I measured after. But this thing, oh so slow and ponderous, was suddenly not only across the square, but it had its talons all the way in her chest, as if it had always been there. She fell without another word, and we charged it, weapons drawn and voices raised, but it was gone again, behind us where it had originally been. It didn't so much move as just, I don't know, blink? in and out of existence. It grabbed two of our healers and ate them immediately, then used its tail to whip a paladin out of the way.

I don't remember their names, all that will be in the report, too.

We formed a circle, ready to protect from all sides, but then it was among us, and it killed three more. I took a solid hit from its tail and fell near the Commander.

The world stopped for a minute. She was still alive, barely. I knelt, breathing hard, and tried to heal her, but there was only so much I could do about a gaping hole in her chest. I remember...crying. I hadn't done that in ages, not since my gran died. Commander Leondhart reached up and she touched my face. Wiped my tears away. I looked her in the eyes, and I watched the light go out of them.

I remember the world starting again, and that thing standing over me. There were no eyes, like I said, but I swear to God it was looking at me as it reached down for her body.

I dropped my mace when it hit me, but for some reason the Commander's sword was in my hand. I slashed at its hand, cut it across the wrist. The thing bled purple, and it made that noise again, and with its other hand it smacked me down on the ground, and pinned me through the shoulder with its talon. You can still see the scar, right here, see? I still had another free hand, so I hit the thing with the sword again. It reeled back this time, and I put myself between it and the Commander. Her body, anyway.

It was stupid, in hindsight. The rest of the company had the good sense to take cover, run, regroup, and there I was, defending a dead body. I didn't care about looking stupid, though. I wanted to kill that thing. I wanted to hear its death-gurgle, or whatever unearthly noise it was going to make when I stabbed it in its head.

It raised its arm to strike at me, and I rolled, then slashed at the arm. Reached again, and I actually managed to cut off one of its fingers. Only at that point did I realize it had seven on each hand. Seven. This thing wasn't just unnatural, it had to be extra-planar. Only way to explain the blinking, you know? That, and the smell. Now I was up close, it reeked, like crushed mint and sour milk. It was almost overpowering. It came at me again, and I tripped. It caught me with the flat of its palm, flattened me on my stomach so I couldn't move, and started pressing down. I realized, I was going to die. I was going to die, trying to save a dead body, and that would be it. A stupid cobblestone was going to be the death of me.

It's odd, really. The stupidest thing I'd ever done, and it saved my life. I don't know if me standing up to the thing inspired or shamed my comrades, but every last one of them charged the thing at once. Even some of the villagers, armed with whatever they had, ran at the thing. It stopped blinking in and out, so they managed to bring it down. It did kill three villagers and another medic, but they got the bastard thing. I had a few broken bones, but I lived. I mean, of course I lived. I'm telling you this story, after all!

The villagers offered to fete us. We declined, politely, and left for Dervun. The only bodies we saved were the ones the creature didn't eat- the last healer we lost, and the Commander. We were quiet, I remember. No songs, no conversation. I had a lot of time to think on that ride. I thought about my life, and how I was spending it. I joined the military to be like my father. I joined the paladin core because, frankly, it had been my mother's dream. She became a lawmage instead. I even stayed a virgin, for what? The approval of a commanding officer? Of course I love and respect all those people, but the important distinction was, they weren't me. I tried to be like them, and I almost died, never being who I was. Never living my own life.

We made it back to Dervun two days before were going to muster out. The brass kept Commander Leondhart's death an open secret, but they prepared her body to get her back to her family crypt. They even returned her sword, since it managed not to snap when I was using it. I got a nice letter from the Commander's family, and a commendation for...what was it...'valor in combat.' I got what I thought I'd wanted- credit, built on my own merits. I wish the official report hadn't given me so much of it.

Anyway. The closing ceremony.

I didn't attend. It was a minor slight, but I dodged the closing ceremony. I planned on going. Had my nice, white-steel armor on and everything. At the last minute, I told Lieutenant Kraggan I wasn't feeling well, and he sent me back to the inn.

The inn was almost empty. I walked in, and there was no one in the bar except me. I thought for a moment, I really was alone, then Kaya came out of the kitchen.

She was surprised to see me, asked why I wasn't at the ceremony. I walked over to her, took her by the waist and I kissed her, full on the mouth. It felt like eternity, and when eternity passed, I told her everything I'd ever thought about doing with her, to her, and almost did all of them right there on the bar. She was sensible, though, and she took me up to my room.

She spent the rest of the day helping me make up for lost time. It was good we were alone, because she was not quiet. She told me after, the waiting is what did it for her. Getting men to chase her was something of an aphrodisiac for her. Well, that and the fact that I wasn't gentle. Her request.

Two days later I was packed and on my way out with the rest of the fifth company. I caught Kaya alone before we left, asked her if she would come with us, come back and settle down with me. It was a stupid idea, and she knew why I had it. She declined, then told me, if I still felt the same way in five years, to come back and find her. It's been three, and I still think about her now and again. I think, if fate drags me back by Dervun in two years' time, I'll go find her. Take her up on her offer.

I won't be going back with the army, though.

Two months after Dervun, I quit the army. My service time was up, and I didn't reenlist. That bright and shiny armor? I wore it to my discharge ceremony, where they pinned that medal on my chest, then again at Commander Leondhart's funeral. When I took it off, I polished it, put it in a chest, and put that chest in the family vault. I haven't looked at it since.

That night in the nameless town changed something for me. I stared death in its featureless face, and I came out the other side. I decided, my life was for me. I wasn't going to spend it trying to be someone else, or for someone else's approval. So, I put my family's name aside, and became a wandering cleric. I kept my mace, and this holy book, but I sold almost everything else. When people ask me to preach, I preach. Tell them to live in service to the gods, and that the best service is to themselves. When they ask me to fight, I fight. Banish whatever has no business being in this world, letting people live their lives.

I met Xakya for the second time about a month ago. Now we've formed a wonderful little band, and here we sit, the fruits of another quest filling our bellies with mead and our beds with wanton women. Well, not mine. I'm just for the drinking. Speaking of which, let's get us another pitcher. This one's empty. Ah, but that young thing over there's been looking at you on and off since about the time I was telling you about that duel I had in training school. Why not go, take her to bed, show her a fun night?

Yes, go! Don't sit here, listening to me all night! Go, live your life. I've got mine ahead of me.


End file.
